


Sizzle

by MathClassWarfare



Series: We're on a Road to Nowhere [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Festivals, Fluff, Food, Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Music, POV Noctis Lucis Caelum, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28531158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/pseuds/MathClassWarfare
Summary: A local food festival provides a welcome distraction on the road, and a chance for Noctis and Prompto to blow off some steam.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: We're on a Road to Nowhere [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209105
Comments: 18
Kudos: 44
Collections: FFXV Book Club 2020 Holiday Exchange





	Sizzle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [somewherealight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/somewherealight/gifts).



> Thank you for giving me such a wide-open Promptis request to work with. I really hope you like it!

“I understand that you may not be aware of this, since you so rarely drive.” Ignis leans forward between the seats. “But there are, in fact, speed limits beyond the Wall.”

“This road is practically empty,” Noctis huffs. “We’re the only— _oh shit_.” Rounding a bend, he sees another car—at the end of a line of even more cars—and hits the brakes.

Gladio slams into the back of Prompto’s seat, shouting, “ _Ifrit’s flamin’ balls_ , Noct!” 

“Sorry . . .” Noctis grimaces at Prompto, who gives him a warm smile and says, “Nice save, dude!” 

Pushing himself up on the passenger door, Prompto cranes his neck to get a better look at the road ahead. “What do you guys think the holdup is?”

“I can’t imagine,” Ignis mutters, pulling out his phone. “But please proceed with caution.”

It isn’t long before a ferris wheel comes into view, and a banner proclaiming the _‘Leiden Potato Festival.’_

“ _Oooh!_ Potato festival! Can we go?”

Noctis has a really hard time saying no to Prompto, and he’s sort of curious himself. He’s never been to a potato-themed event before. “Sure, why not?”

“Don’t we have a hunt on the agenda?” Ignis reminds them.

 _“Eh.”_ Noctis waves a dismissive hand. “We can do it tomorrow. This’ll be fun.” 

Killing things for money has been much _less fun_ than Noctis had imagined, back before they left home and lost nearly everything. He thinks they could probably all use a break, especially Prompto—Noctis knows he’s been feeling guilty about all the animals. He’d hate for his best friend to snap and go vegetarian. 

“As you wish,” Ignis sighs.

“C’mon Iggy.” Gladio slaps his shoulder. “Maybe you can pick up some recipes?” 

“Perhaps.”

They find their way to a makeshift parking lot in a field, with the help of several people wearing potato t-shirts. Then they follow the smell of fried food into the festival grounds.

It’s no surprise that there are lots of things you can make with potatoes. The Crow’s Nest has a stand selling fries, which Prompto kindly gets so that Noctis doesn’t have to interact with the Kenny Crow mascot. From various other vendors they grab baked potatoes, latkes, two kinds of stew, vegetable curry, barramundi fried in a crispy crust, schnitzel, and some kind of potato tortilla rolled up with butter, cinnamon and sugar. Everybody’s hands are full by the time they plop it all down in the center of a picnic table to share. 

When Ignis starts taking notes, Gladio and Noctis exchange a look. Hopefully it’s the fried fish, and not the curry, that’s caught his attention.

“Should we check out the games?” asks Prompto, drumming the back of his fork on the tabletop.

Noctis looks at the pile of food and pops another fry in his mouth. “But you’ve hardly eaten anything.”

“No way! I tried everything—unlike some people.” He points the fork at Noctis.

“He’s got ‘ya there,” Gladio says, before taking another bite of the garula stew.

They quickly finish off as much as they can, then head towards the midway, passing a large farm building that’s been set up like a concert hall. There’s a poster out front, listing the day's events. In addition to live music, they’ve got cooking demonstrations, potato carving, and the crowning of the ‘Potato Princess.’

Gladio smacks Noctis’s arm. “You gonna enter, Princess?”

“Don’t think so,” he says. “Wouldn’t be fair to the other contestants.”

“You’re very gracious, Highness,” Ignis says, with just the hint of a smile.

Prompto dominates at the shooting gallery, of course. He draws a crowd of little kids and gives them his prizes, saving one knockoff Malbuddy plush for Noctis. It isn’t easy to pull him away from his fans so they can go check out the rides—there are tears.

On the scrambler, Noctis and Prompto happily squish together, giggling like idiots at one end of the spinning car. Holding Prompto in his arms, Noctis is tempted to kiss him right there in front of everybody—it’s all a blur anyway—but he chickens out. The ride slows, and they stumble off to rejoin their friends.

When they approach the ferris wheel, Prompto stares up at it, chewing his lip. 

“Actually,” Noctis says. “You guys go ahead. I’m not really feeling it.” 

“What? Really?” Prompto turns wide eyes in his direction.

“Yeah. Still kinda dizzy from the scrambler.”

“ _Oh._ Yeah. Me too.” He grins. “I’ll hang with you down here, buddy.”

“Cool.” A smile dances at the edge of Noctis’s lips.

“Why don’t we meet back up at the pavilion later?” Ignis suggests. “I’d like to hear the music.”

They all agree, and Ignis and Gladio get in line.

On their way back across the fairgrounds, Prompto flings an arm over Noctis’s shoulder. “Thanks, dude.”

“For what?”

“You know.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Noctis deadpans. Waving the malboro in Prompto’s face, he adds, “I just didn’t want my friend here to get scared.”

“ _Aww_ , it’s ok little guy,” Prompto laughs, sweet with relief. “I don’t like heights either.”

When they get back to the concert hall, there’s already a band on stage, with fiddles and guitars and an upright bass. It’s _real_ bluegrass, and Noctis is way into it. He never went to shows like this back in Insomnia, but Ignis would sometimes put this kind of music on in the car. 

As people continue to stream through the door, Noctis starts to become very conscious of the crowd. He moves himself and Prompto further and further into a secluded corner of the space, eventually noticing a stairwell there. Figuring that it must lead up to the loft, he grabs Prompto’s hand and they slip away, up the stairs.

What they find are stacks of folded-up partitions, nests of cables, and lots of other sound equipment. Wafting up from the stage, they can still hear the masterful fiddle solo that’s whipping the crowd into a frenzy.

“Man, I wish I could play music,” Prompto whispers, leaning back between two rows of crates.

“Me too.” Noctis kisses his cheek, snuggling in next to him.

“I thought you played piano though?” 

“Not really,” he says, sliding a hand under Prompto’s shirt. “Not anymore, at least.” 

Noctis started learning to play as a kid, but never really practiced after they fled Tenebrae. There’s something magical about music-making that he still thinks about, though. Sometimes he can almost grasp that feeling. 

Spreading his fingers apart, he rests them on Prompto’s stomach and mimes a simple lullaby—the first song Luna ever taught him—locating middle C on Prompto’s belly button. It’s hard to remember how it goes, especially when there’s a vastly different bluegrass tune in his ears.

Shaking with suppressed laughter, Prompto grabs his hands. “That tickles!” 

_”Shhh!”_ Noctis leans in for a kiss, smoothing his palms around to Prompto’s waist, slipping a fingertip under the elastic band of his briefs.

Answering the unspoken question, Prompto grabs at his shoulders to pull him closer, parting his lips and drawing Noctis in with the roll of his tongue. Now this is something Noctis has been practicing a lot lately. They’ve been making good use of any time they can steal, exploring one another in all the ways they’d never thought they could before, and figuring out what they both like. They’ve built up quite a repertoire.

With deft, light fingers, Noctis begins with something he already knows is a hit—getting Prompto in the groove, hips moving, ready for what’s coming. But then he changes it up. He improvises, maintaining the rhythm and hitting the right chords, while making it new—adding things he’s dreamed up during long car rides gazing at his best friend, dying to get his hands on him. 

He has a good ear for Prompto, so he can tell when his crescendo is building. Like right now, as his breath blows fast and warm against Noctis’s skin. Pulling back to look at him—messy hair, flush and freckles, eyes and mouth half open—Noctis is proud of himself. _He_ did this, and he’s still getting to the best part.

He rides that feeling, listening and waiting until just the right moment for the stinger—then all that gorgeous tension releases in a clear, bright cry. Prompto clasps both hands over his mouth and rolls onto his side, all breathless and giddy and beautiful as hell.

“Don’t worry,” Noctis murmurs, gathering him up. “I doubt anybody can hear us over _that_.” There’s a riot of strings down below, as the band starts in on another song.

Prompto lets out a happy sigh, running his fingers up and down the arm Noctis has draped over him. “It’s official,” he says. “Potatoes are my favorite vegetable now.” 

Smiling into his glistening, gold-flecked shoulder, Noctis whispers, “Mine too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am so grateful to be part of the ffxv book club! It's been such a source of joy and fun in a bleak world. Thanks to [moonwaif](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwaif/pseuds/moonwaif) and [stopmopingstarthoping](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping) for helping me with editing and feedback. (They are both fantastic writers, check them out!)


End file.
